From a lover of poetry and poets...

Poets
are birds
of rare plumage

beautiful
are their
songs. their wings

transform
the air
just by passing

They bring dreams
descending from
places

hidden
from seeing
or from depths

these eyes cannot
begin to
fathom.

moved
beyond self
sing -- sigh -- dance.

Does
this explain
the lover's love

for
everything poetic -
for everything poetry?
**